


Never Brought To Mind

by zulu



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: 07-03, F/F, Femslash, for:pene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-11
Updated: 2007-03-11
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zulu/pseuds/zulu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We'll drink a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Brought To Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Betas by thedeadparrot, leiascully, and daemonluna.

They lost thirty-four slayers, that first year, in Los Angeles. Dawn knew, because in the end it mostly fell to her to let their families know.

It was Faith who'd started them telling families, right from the start when they were still on that crazy cross-country road trip in the old Sunnydale school bus. "I think Willow convinced the universe that we need a bit more help," she said. "If we're going to start recruiting everyone that reacts to the Scythe, then they're going to want to tell _somebody_. So let 'em. Who are their families going to tell? The police? The doctors at the loony bin?"

It turned out Faith was pretty good at letting people know, at breaking news. "Shitty stuff happened to me," she told Dawn. "I just say it the way I'd want to be told."

She was bandaged and bruised when she said that; there was blood showing through the too-white dressings on her right arm, and her left eye barely opened. "I tried to save her, Dawn," she said, then, as if Dawn couldn't guess what was coming. Dawn wanted to touch her, to hold her and prove that Faith, at least, was alive; but Faith looked so hurt and so young that Dawn just wrapped her arms around herself and waited for Faith to finish. She felt the burn of tears starting. "Buffy just kept heading back in," Faith said. "She wanted to find Angel, even after we saw the dragon was a fire-breather."

The funeral was in Cleveland. It was May, and all the trees were covered in blossoms. None of them, who'd been there in Sunnydale, really wanted to hear a preacher speak. Giles said what he could. Faith was there, even though she was still too hurt to stay for long. Dawn wanted to thank her for being there for Buffy, but in the end she was whisked away by Robin Wood, and Dawn came back to the apartment in Rome with Giles.

It wasn't just Buffy. Angel and Wesley and Cordelia were gone, too, and there were other names among the death toll that Dawn didn't really know, like Fred and Gunn and Lindsey. Dawn couldn't really bring herself to care much about any of them, or about all the earthquake stories that got tossed around to cover up the fact that the supposed-to-be heroes hadn't managed to save thousands of innocent people.

She didn't care, 'cause that wouldn't bring Buffy back.

It helped, really, to take the time to go to the European slayers' homes and tell their parents what had happened. That the world was safe because of their daughters. Every time she did, Dawn thought of Faith doing the same thing in the States. Was she uncomfortable? Or hurting? Or just taking it all in stride?

Dawn tried calling Cleveland a couple of times, but somehow she always ended up getting Robin on the phone. That only reminded her that Faith wasn't single, even if Dawn _wanted_ to say something stupid about some crush that maybe she still wasn't over. After a while, she gave up calling and went back to concentrating on school.

"I'm fine," she said to Willow, over the phone. "Fine," she repeated, using the word seven times in her last letter to Xander. "You don't need to worry," she told Giles, in the roots of three Indo-European languages, four demon dialects, and a finicky calligraphy cuneiform. "Buffy told us not to save her this time, remember?"

She was _fine_. Buffy had actually talked to her, as if maybe she finally trusted Dawn enough to tell her stuff. "I'm tired," she'd said once, maybe a month before the call to Los Angeles came. "Dawnie, you don't need me so much any more. I came here to live, not to be the slayer."

"So stop going out slaying!" Dawn yelled. She was eighteen and therefore a grownup but she wasn't over yelling when Buffy was being butt-stupid. "We've got Rhona for the routine stuff. If you're so old, stay home and train like Giles!"

Buffy had looked at her, astonished, as though she'd forgotten that she had backup now. She was always forgetting that. It drove Rhona nuts, Dawn knew, but then Rhona hadn't grown up for ten years hearing nothing but Giles' pukey One Girl In All The World speech. "Yeah," Buffy said. "I guess."

She did like she promised, too. Stayed in and trained, and even wrinkled her nose over one or two of Dawn's dusty grimoires when there was a demon to research. Things were good again, until the day Angel called to say goodbye. Dawn rolled her eyes when she picked up the phone and heard his voice. "From stalker to star-crossed lover in under a month," she said. "Wow, because Buffy totally wants to hear about how you and Spike think a threesome would solve all your romantic problems."

"Dawn. Put Buffy on the phone."

"Maybe she's out with the Immortal," Dawn said, feeling pissy.

"This isn't about that, Dawn. I just want to, uh. Talk to her."

"You're planning something stupid, aren't you?" Dawn nodded to herself, even though Angel wasn't answering. "Being all cryptic and telling her that you wish you could see her _just one last time_ isn't going to make her _not_ try to save you, you know. I mean, didn't you ever see Beauty And The Beast?"

"What? No. This isn't a Disney movie, Dawn. Just--"

"Whatever," Dawn said, and tossed the phone to Buffy when she walked into the room.

Maybe she was supposed to feel guilty because she hadn't hung up on Angel before he had a chance to tell Buffy about his idiotic plan. But she didn't. It was Buffy's fault, the whole thing, even though Dawn agreed that they had to _try_, and even rounded up the best slayer-army she could put together in twenty-four hours. Willow computer-magicked up plane tickets for them, and away they went, laughing about hitting the malls and all the celebrities they'd see, once the dragons were slain.

Most of them died. Buffy died. That was in May, and by September Dawn was nineteen and way more independent than most freshmen. But then, most freshmen weren't veterans of a five-month long siege by the essence of evil itself. That kind of changed what a girl thought was dangerous, and compared to that, moving into her dorm at the Tiberium college to learn dead languages and demon prophecies wasn't any more difficult than going to the market and buying milk. There was nothing left to do but train and study and cry into her pillow whenever she thought about Mom or Buffy or how it seemed like all those letters and phone calls telling everyone she was _just fine_ seemed to've worked a little too well.

"Hey," she said, when she finally managed to get a transatlantic connection to Willow. "You never call, you never write." She tried to laugh, a little. It kind of sounded like a sniffle.

"Hmm?" Willow said. "Who's this?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Will, it's _Dawnie_," she said, putting all her disgust for the nickname into her voice. "Remember? Best friend's annoying little sister, recently turned stunning Italian debutante?"

"Oh. Dawn. Yeah. I--" Willow paused, and then said, "How's it going?"

Dawn breathed, then, and started rattling off all her recent test scores, the kind of personality she hoped her slayer had when she finally had one to train, the ridiculous expectations that Giles had set up for her with the Tiberium dean. But after a few minutes she realized that Willow's little "mm-hmm" noises were covering the sound of typing, and Willow hadn't really said anything at all. "So, yeah. That's me," she said, and her chest kind of hurt, but she was _not_ going to start crying again. "How are you guys doing? You and Kennedy."

"Oh, fine," Willow said. "I'm sorry, um, it's been so long, we never get to catch up like this. It's a shame, really, very upsetting. But I'm kind of busy. Um."

"Dawn!" Dawn said, exasperated.

"Right. But I'll call you back when I have more time..."

"Don't strain yourself," Dawn huffed, and slammed the phone down. She crossed her arms and sulked in her room until she realized that no one was going to come looking for her. Even Giles hadn't stopped by for a week, and the last time he had he'd smiled at her vaguely until she started talking to him about _homework_. He wasn't going to show up now just to ask what had crawled up her butt and died.

But Willow had sounded like she was talking to a stranger on the bus. Like she was faking the whole conversation until she could escape. Maybe she was still upset about Buffy--but then, why wouldn't she _talk_ about it? And she didn't sound upset. Just...absent. Polite. Stranger-on-a-bus.

Dawn hugged her pillow and wished that Tara was there, to stroke her hair and call her _sweetie_ and tell her it was going to be all right, even if it was stupid to think that it was going to be all right. And then she remembered that she hadn't thought about missing Tara for almost a year, and it was _that_ that finally made her cry, after all. Dawn fell asleep and woke up the next morning all puffy-eyed and headachey and pissed off at the whole world for forgetting her. She promised herself she wasn't going to think about it, she was just going to go class and forget them right back, so she did, and it was working _just fine_ until she stopped to get her mail.

There were three letters addressed to Xander in her box. They'd come back stamped Return To Sender, with puzzled little question marks doodled around her name on the envelope.

Dawn stared at them, tracing Xander's pen-marks with one finger, completely thrown for a loop. She wasn't imagining it. They were really _forgetting_ her.

She borrowed a moped from a girl in her Cultural Anthropology class and buzzed over to Giles' apartment. She hammered on his door and called his name until he opened the door. He left it open and stepped back. Dawn could tell from the way he was standing that he had a sword or a staff in easy reach behind the door, and that he didn't trust daylight enough to invite her in. "Yes?" he said.

"Giles! Don't you know who I am?"

"A--a student," Giles said. "At Tiberium, isn't it? You're very knowledgeable about the gr'Iagknor language. Did you, ah, need a letter of recommendation?"

"No!" she yelled. "I'm Dawn Summers! You've known me for years! In Sunnydale!"

Giles frowned. "I'm afraid you're mistaken," he said, and started to close the door.

Dawn slammed her hand against the door to stop him. "I'm Buffy Summers' _sister_," she said.

Giles' frown deepened. "I would know if Buffy Summers had a sister," he said repressively. Then he blinked, and looked at her again politely. "Yes?"

"You just forgot me again!" Dawn said. "While I was standing right here! Listen, you know me. I wasn't really her sister, to start, I mean. I'm the Key! Mystical energy! Magical--oh _shit_."

Giles tried to close the door again, nudging her backwards in tiny increments. "I'm not sure that I can help you. I believe there must have been some error."

"Oh yeah," Dawn said. "There's been an error. And I can't even get you guys to research it, if I have to explain the problem every five seconds."

"Yes, well, good luck. Do let me know if I can write you that recommendation," Giles said, and clicked the door shut in her face.

Dawn wanted to scream in frustration. She sped back to the college, slammed in to her dorm room, and picked up the phone. She ripped her slayer contact list off the wall and started dialing. Finding out who'd completely forgotten her was simple. She just had to cross off everyone who refused to accept her calls collect. The only people who even answered were the slayers she'd met since moving to Rome, and even they sounded kind of confused when Dawn questioned them about herself. Her heart pounded like crazy and she felt sick every time she had to say her name to the recorder. She was thinking that maybe it was time she grabbed every book she had on the Key spell--which was, thanks to Giles and Buffy, way more than she could possibly ever get to--when suddenly, finally, a warm voice that didn't belong to a robot sounded in her ear.

"Hey, D, what's up? You been running up the phone bill again?"

"Oh my God, I love you," Dawn blurted out, and then blushed scarlet and said, "Um. Hi, Faith."

Faith laughed, softly and kind of scratchy. Dawn was so happy hearing a familiar voice, a voice that knew who the hell she _was_, that she forgot about being embarrassed. "Jeez, you woke me up at six in the morning and made me pay for the call to hear you say that? I'm flattered. I think."

"I need you to come to Rome," Dawn said, not even stopping to think about it. Faith's voice sounded so good, and Dawn wanted her right there, right now. "There's something wrong with me. I don't know if it's a spell or a Key thing or what. Everybody's forgetting who I am."

"Except me?" Faith sounded a bit more awake, now, and Dawn could hear some rustling over the phone. She could picture it--Faith dressed in as close to nothing as she could get away with in a house full of baby slayers--but that was _so_ not what she should be thinking about.

"Did I really wake you up?" she asked, trying to remember the house in Cleveland that she'd only seen briefly before she and Buffy had moved on to Italy. Trying to place Faith in the living room, the kitchen--anywhere, really, but tousled and half-asleep and spread out on top of her bed wearing the nothing-at-all that apparently her brain believed would be the most helpful image to throw up at this particular moment.

"Mmm, yeah." Faith yawned loudly to prove it. "'S'okay. Late night." Her voice rasped with a hint of roughness, and Dawn really didn't shiver at all, hearing it. Really.

"Demons?" she asked.

"Dancing."

"With Robin?" Dawn clutched the phone in a death grip. Her knee jiggled nervously. It wasn't that she wanted to hear about the guy she still sort of thought about as Principal Wood. It wasn't even that she was finally having a conversation that didn't involve her repeating her name over and over again, though that was part of it. She couldn't believe it'd been so long since she'd spoken to Faith at all.

"Nah." Another yawn, and then Faith sounded like her regular self. "I ditched him a couple of months ago." A pause, and then, "You freaking out, Dawn?"

Dawn nodded, even though Faith wouldn't know. "Can you come?" she asked, trying not to sound pathetic. Faith remembered her. That had to mean something. It wasn't just about seeing her.

"Yeah," Faith said. "Think Willow will send me?"

"Willow doesn't know who I am."

"Ah, I'll tell her something," Faith said. "Trust me, Dawn, okay? I'll be there soon."

"Yeah," Dawn said, and hung up with a sigh. She thought about going to class, but probably her profs wouldn't remember if she skipped. She giggled at the thought, except it sounded hysterical, and she bit her lip to stop. She knew what she had to do. Library. Books. Research.

The fact that Faith remembered her was the best thing that had happened all day. It didn't make much sense, unless it had something to do with the slayer line, or with the Key spell. Dawn tried to think back to the first time someone had stumbled over her name or was late returning her calls, like they couldn't quite place who the message was from. That summer she'd gotten less mail than usual, but she hadn't really noticed, because she'd been missing Buffy so badly.

Dawn shook herself. There was no reason to panic over nothing, before she'd even cracked open a book. She forced herself to calm down, to take a shower and tidy her room a bit, since she didn't want Faith thinking she was more of a slob than she was. Then she wondered if Faith would notice she'd cleaned up, and thought about strewing a bit of laundry around to show she hadn't done anything special, and then she realized that she was getting seriously off-track. She grabbed the first text she could find on the Key spell, and settled down to read.

By the time a knock came on her door, she was definitely panicking for a reason. Dawn flung the book down and opened the door to Faith, who grinned at her before pulling off her sunglasses. "Hey," she said.

Dawn rushed forward and threw herself into Faith's arms. It felt really good. She squeezed hard, knowing it wouldn't hurt Faith, knowing it was what she needed.

"Hey, come on," Faith said into her hair, hugging her back. Her voice was halfway between joking and comforting. "You're going to be okay."

"I'm not," Dawn said. "I'm turning back into energy. I'm _dissipating_."

She felt Faith's shoulders drop a bit at that, and she forced herself to back up a step, even though the last thing she wanted was to let go. "The spell the monks used to make me is fading," she said, waving one hand helplessly at the tome she'd been reading. "It's right there in the liturgy."

"So I guess I can't fix you by killing something?" Faith asked.

Dawn gaped at her, then felt giggles bubbling up. She burst out laughing, not hysterical this time, just honestly amused at the half-hopeful look on Faith's face, as if she could pull out a knife to make it all better.

"What?" Faith glared at her for a second, but she was fighting a grin. "What? Shut up, _Dawnie_, I'm good at killing stuff."

"No, of course you are," Dawn said, trying to contain her giggles. She smiled, shaking her head. "Um, do you want to come in? Can I get you anything?"

"I'm kind of already in," Faith pointed out, but she turned and swung the door shut behind her. "Got any water? Willow sent me. Things get a bit dry on the astral plane."

Dawn got out a few bottles from the room's small fridge and passed one to Faith. She sat down on her desk chair, waving Faith to the bed. She finally felt like she could breathe, as if Faith being there was already halfway to solving the problem. She could finally _sit_ for the first moment since she'd realized what was happening. Faith twisted the cap off her water and took a long drink, leaning back against Dawn's headboard. She looked amazing. Her hair was scooped up into a bun and fixed with two chopsticks that could be used as stakes in a pinch, and she was dressed casually in tight jeans and a tank top under her leather jacket. Dawn never would've known that she'd started the day after only a few hours sleep and a continent or two away. She wanted to look and keep on looking. She fiddled with her own bottle, her worries coming back as quickly as she'd dismissed them.

"So," Faith said quietly after a moment. "Why me?"

Dawn shook her head. "I'm not sure. But, um, I think it has something to do with Buffy."

Faith rolled her eyes. "What doesn't," she muttered, and made a face.

Dawn let another breath of laughter escape. "Faith, she's gone. She's dead. You're the slayer. Think you could let it go?"

Faith toed her boots off her feet and stuck her legs up on the bed. "So it's mystical? Nothing to do with you and me?"

"What do you mean?" Dawn's heart leapt at the way Faith said _you and me_, but she probably didn't really mean anything by it.

Faith shrugged. "Maybe I remember you because..." She paused. "I don't know. You're the girl genius."

"I've only really known you since you came to help with the First," Dawn said. Seriously, if she didn't know any better, she'd think Faith was talking about--about _them_, as if there was a _them_. "I know--I know there was stuff before that, but it wasn't--"

"Real, gotcha." Faith was tensing up, drawing into herself.

Dawn could have smacked herself for bringing that up. She'd been just a kid, but Faith had been so cool, so beautiful, and Dawn hadn't believed she was evil even after Buffy told her. She remembered visiting Faith in the hospital, when she was in the coma, angry at Buffy for making her jump off that roof. Dawn had held her hand, watching her when she slept, wishing she had the guts to find out if fairy tales were real enough to wake someone up with a kiss. She'd believed in Faith, until the day she'd woken up and hurt Mom, locking Dawn up so she couldn't help.

"I guess I don't have to apologize for it, since it didn't happen," Faith said, watching her.

Dawn squirmed under her look. "I'm just glad you remember me at all."

Faith glanced away. "I'm sorry, anyway. For what I did to Joyce, even if you weren't there."

"Thanks." Dawn swallowed, and picked at the label on her water bottle. It didn't really help, except it sort of did.

"So now what?"

"I guess I keep reading."

"And I sit here?" Faith sounded kind of ticked off, and Dawn couldn't figure out why.

"Look, I'm sorry," she said, even knowing she didn't sound sorry at all. She hadn't meant this to get serious--well, more serious than life and death--and she was stuck somewhere between wanting Faith to care and wanting her to be elsewhere so that Dawn didn't get any more confused than she was. "I just--I wanted you here. I was scared." She brushed her hair out of her face. "I figured you could help with that, okay?"

Faith looked down. "Killing things would've been easier."

Would it really kill Faith to show some emotion? Dawn slammed her water bottle down on the desk, dangerously close to a twelfth-century Papal encyclical. "Yeah, well, guess what?" she said. "This is kind of more about me right now, Faith. I'm sorry if it sucks, but you're the only one who can do it. No one remembers me! I'm disappearing! Try thinking about that for a minute before you worry about whether I might ask you to be just a little bit sympathetic."

"Fine," Faith said. She stomped back into her boots. "You're right, I'm bad at this. And I'm kind of clueless here." She headed for the door. Dawn watched when she stopped and took a breath before turning around. "I'm gonna go get something to eat. You want anything?"

Dawn sighed. At least she wasn't leaving. "Bring me back a gelato?" she asked.

Faith snorted. "Raspberry, right?"

"You remember." Dawn tried to smile, but it felt wavery.

"Yeah, I do. And I'm not going to abandon you. I can't just sit around, though." Faith came over to her and touched her cheek. Her hand was warm against Dawn's skin, and she turned her face toward Faith's palm. "You're not gonna disappear," Faith said. "I've got you." She pulled back after a second and shoved both hands into her pockets. Dawn wished she'd grabbed her, had held Faith close for a little longer. "I'll kick me out when I'm getting in your hair, and we'll be fine."

"Come back quick..." Dawn trailed off, not quite wanting to make it a question, but needing to hear the reassurance.

"Yeah," Faith said. "You're going to figure it out. You're the smartest person I know."

"You know Willow."

Faith grinned. "Yeah, so?"

Dawn smiled back at her. "Thanks." When Faith left, she turned back to the liturgy, working her way through the translations.

She'd been right. It was Buffy's death that had started all of this. Giles must not have gotten this far in his research. Once they'd figured out the basics, that was enough. No one needed to know what would happen if Buffy wasn't around any longer, because the Scoobies had figured the universe would be pretty much kaput by then. And it took months for the spell to fade, which was why people were only forgetting now. Last time, Willow had brought Buffy back soon enough that the connection between them hadn't been broken.

Maybe it wasn't really a surprise, when she figured out the answer. The Key needed to be protected. The only protection strong enough was a slayer--not just any slayer, either, but one who would die for her, if she needed to. A slayer who loved her.

Dawn sat back and stared into nothing until she heard the rattle of her extra key in the dorm room door. Faith came in, gelato in hand. Dawn took it from her and had a few mouthfuls before putting it down absently. She pretended to read while she watched Faith, who prowled around the room, poking at Dawn's things and opening and closing drawers for no better reason than to be moving. Finally, Faith settled into the only open space there was, pulled off her jacket, and started in on her Tai Chi exercises, with her eyes closed. Back in Sunnydale, Dawn used to watch her exercise like this, in the middle of the day when there wasn't enough danger to keep the Potentials from whining and arguing every last decision to death. It was calming, just like it had been then, to watch Faith move. It wasn't only her grace, which any slayer had plenty of. It was more that she was determined to do it. That she believed in it.

That she was beautiful doing it. Dawn wondered what it would be like to see Faith do this every day. To maybe know exactly what Faith could do, every inch of her, to know how Faith moved and touched and felt; and to have those memories while she watched.

"You're looking at me," Faith said, after a few minutes, without ever opening her eyes.

Dawn dropped her gaze guiltily. "Yeah," she admitted. It wouldn't be hard at all for her to fall in love with Faith. The problem was it would be too easy, and Faith wasn't exactly known for sticking around. She'd kicked Robin to the curb after less than a year, after all.

"So..." Faith drew out the word, as she moved fluidly from one pose to the next. "You've got the answer, but you figure I can't handle the truth."

"Not in a Jack Nicholson spazzy kind of way," Dawn said, and shifted uncomfortably. "Just. Yeah, a little."

"So stop making things worse for yourself and tell me." Faith slid out of her last pose and sat on the bed, hugging one leg and resting her chin on her knee.

"The spell's wearing off because Buffy died," Dawn said. She waited for Faith to react, but this time she just watched Dawn closely. Her eyes were dark and kind of serious. Maybe the Tai Chi really did help her to stay calm. Dawn rushed on, trying to get through everything without saying too much. Pressure was the last thing that would keep Faith around. "Now I don't have a slayer protecting me, so it would be less dangerous for the world if I turned back into energy. So that no one could use me like Glory wanted to."

"And now it's my turn, right?" Faith sounded sarcastic, but not really upset. "Buffy knows how to keep on giving, doesn't she?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Hey, how do you think I feel? I have to make sure there's always a slayer willing to protect me for the rest of my life. Like, what am I? Some girly princess stuck in a tower?"

Faith's grin flashed dimples for a second. "Does that make me Prince Charming?"

Dawn flushed, thinking again of her silly Sleeping Beauty fantasy. "You'd get to kill things for me," she offered.

"You mean I'd be your slayer?"

"Well...yeah," Dawn said, trying to imagine Faith saying _I'm yours_. It didn't really work, even in her head. "I know you know everything you need to about fighting. I could research for you, though. But, uh, there's a bit more to it."

"Like what?"

"Like, we have to have a relationship," Dawn said. "That's why the monks made me Buffy's sister, so she'd love me, so she'd _want_ to save me."

"We have to be related?" Faith made a pained face. "No offense, but ew."

"What's so ew about that?" Dawn asked. Things were getting all twisted around. She didn't really want Faith to be her sister, either--it felt like an insult to Buffy, even though she knew if that was the only thing that would save her, then Buffy would've been fine with it. But Faith was acting like it was the worst news she'd ever heard. What kind of protector was that?

"I didn't come here to get adopted," Faith said. She stood up and started pacing, all her calmness disappearing in an instant. "I'm no good at family."

"You don't have to be," Dawn said. "It's okay if it's, um, something else, I think." She knew she was blushing. She had to be. Visions of _something else_ were currently flooding her mind.

When she didn't say anything more, Faith stopped in the middle of the room and turned to look at her. After a second, her eyes went wide, and then she broke out in a smirk. "_Oh_," she said. "Little Dawnie's all grown up, you mean?"

"Okay, if you call me Dawnie, then I'd rather get turned into energy again. I could be the dewdrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, you know," Dawn said. Faith acting like she was still a kid was a way worse _ew_ than being her sister. She narrowed her eyes at Faith. "That's what you meant about family, isn't it?" she asked. "Because you'd rather--" She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. She could hardly believe that this was real, that Faith really wanted to--

Faith's smirk grew. "Make out?" she suggested.

"Make love," Dawn said, her heart speeding. Her whole body felt tense at once, the good kind of tense like right after a workout, when her muscles were singing and her blood was pumping so fast that she could barely breathe.

Faith stiffened up at that. "Dawn--"

"You like me," Dawn said, sing-song. She danced a little closer, getting into Faith's space. "That's why you were so upset before." She laughed. Suddenly the whole thing seemed a lot simpler. She leaned in, as if she was going to kiss Faith on the lips, the way she'd sort of practiced with Cassie, and once with Andrew.

Faith stood up, and suddenly Dawn felt breathless and trapped, even though she was taller. "Yeah," Faith said roughly. "I want you. That doesn't mean this is a good idea."

"Maybe I don't care," Dawn said, and kissed her.

Faith stepped closer at once and cupped Dawn's face in her hands. Dawn didn't even have time to gasp, and Faith had her pinned just with the heat of her body. She tasted like Dawn's raspberry gelato and the tang of smoke. Dawn wanted to breathe her in and never let go. This was more, faster, than she'd ever expected, except she'd expected _Faith_, so she wasn't surprised at all. Dawn moved her hands down until they were clasped loosely around Faith's ass--oh God, she was touching Faith's ass--and arched up into the kiss, trying to give as good as she got.

"Wanted to do this since I came back, since we went to the Bronze that night," Faith muttered, trailing her lips along Dawn's jaw. "God, you can _dance_."

Dawn laughed, tipping her head back to let Faith reach whatever she wanted to, filled with breathless energy. Her nipples brushed hard against the fabric of her bra, and she wanted it off, now. But first: "Faith," she said. "You better not be thinking about Buffy. Because that would be wrong on so many levels."

Faith stiffened in her arms, and Dawn clamped her mouth shut way too late. But when Faith looked up, she was laughing, and her grin was something a little hungry and a little possessive. "Nah," she said. "She didn't kiss half as good as you."

"There is so much about that sentence that I never needed to know," Dawn whined, and hid her face against Faith's neck. "Make the pictures go away."

"Yeah," Faith breathed, and pulled her closer again. "Told you it was a bad idea."

Dawn rolled her eyes and kissed Faith again, harder. "Shut up," she said into Faith's lips, and raised her arms when Faith pushed her shirt and bra off. She shivered in the sudden cool, but Faith's hands warmed her, and then she was laying down on her bed and Faith's body over hers was like an _oven_. The thought, _slayer metabolism_, flashed through Dawn's head and then escaped the moment Faith shed her top and her bra.

"Faith?" Dawn said, wriggling closer, reaching up to touch. "There's, uh, something I've been wanting to tell you."

Faith leaned in--her breasts against Dawn's, _oh_\--and hummed against her skin, licked a line along her collarbone. Dawn closed her eyes and whispered, "I--I kind of have a crush on you."

"Figured," Faith said, and kissed her again. Dawn's hands found their way, then, and she was touching and Faith was moaning into her mouth and it was really, really good, the kind of good that chased away all the ways she used to think about this happening. Faith moved her mouth next to Dawn's ear, and said, "You've never done this before."

"So?" Dawn frowned and pinched a bit harder than she'd meant to, and Faith gasped. Dawn's eyes widened, and she did it again, with even better results. "I learn fast."

"Yeah..."

Dawn didn't know whether that was agreement or encouragement, but she figured she'd take it as both. Faith's fingernails trailed down her stomach then wandered across to the side-zip on her pants, and Dawn whined some sort of encouragement. She squirmed free of her panties once the pants were out of the way, and Faith sat back to get rid of the last of her clothes as well. When they kissed again it was wet and messy and Dawn moved her hips against Faith's thigh because she _needed_ it, she wanted it so badly, more than she ever had on her own. Faith moved until it was just right, just _right_, and Dawn panted as she thrust, but then Faith backed off and started kissing her stomach.

"Come _on_, Faith," Dawn said, between gasps, wanting that sensation back; and then Faith used her _mouth_ and Dawn completely lost control of her words.

When Dawn came, Faith had her tongue pressed flat against her clit and one long finger filling her so full that Dawn couldn't even move. "Oh my God," she said, when she could talk again. "I want to do that."

"You just did," Faith said, sounding amused.

Dawn rolled over and painted contour lines on Faith's breasts with her tongue. "I mean I want to learn."

Faith moved impatiently, until Dawn sucked where she wanted. "Such a baby Watcher," she said.

"College student," Dawn corrected. "_Interested party_."

"Yeah, I'm totally interested in this party." Faith's voice was lazy with desire and Dawn wanted to drown in it. She touched Faith, all the places she'd found already, not quite sure if she was ready for the last step, but Faith writhed impatiently and Dawn finally reached for the curls between her thighs.

"Your fingers. Here." Faith took her hand and pressed it between her legs, moving her hips into the touch. "Like that--Dawn--"

Dawn smiled, watched the contraction of Faith's muscles as she pushed and pulled and teased as best she could. Faith watched her until the very end, when she grabbed Dawn's wrist almost-but-not-quite too hard and held Dawn's hand in place until she came, a flood of warmth over Dawn's palm. Faith sucked her fingers off, after, and the flicker of her tongue was hotter than it had any right to be.

"I do kind of love you," Dawn said, when she lay down next to Faith and they'd both crawled under the covers.

Faith didn't say anything, but she didn't run away, either. Dawn nudged closer to Faith and closed her eyes, not really expecting her to speak. Either Dawn would wake up cured or maybe she wouldn't so much mind being energy, after all. She didn't want to think about it, or worry, not now, not after this, so she dozed instead, and Faith didn't seem to mind snuggling with her while she did.

The ear-piercing ring of her phone hauled Dawn out of her light sleep. She reached across Faith, fumbling on the nightstand for the receiver. "What?" she snapped when she was holding the right end to her mouth.

"Dawn," Giles said, "I've just had the most disturbing thought. It occurs to me that Buffy's life was all that was tying you to our dimension as a corporeal being. Without her to anchor you here, the monks' spell might fade to such an extent that you would return to the natural energy state of the Key!"

"Oh my _God_, Giles," Dawn gasped. "Do you think everyone I ever knew might start to forget me unless I managed to establish a new anchor on this plane of existence with a slayer in the current line?"

"Ah...well," Giles sputtered, "that's certainly a possibility, but, ah, I haven't researched the matter to my satisfaction..."

"I have," Dawn said, grinning at Faith. "Trust me, I'm _very_ satisfied with my research."

Giles paused for a moment, and then he took a breath that seemed to work as both exasperation and epiphany. "I take it you've already...experimented...with a possible solution?"

"You remember me," Dawn said. "I'd say it's pretty good bet, Giles."

"Yes. Well. I see." Giles coughed lightly. "I suppose I'll just--"

"Right. Thanks, Giles. _Bye_." Dawn thumbed the phone off and buried her lips on Faith's shoulder, giggling. When she came up for air, she said, "You love me. You really love me."

Faith didn't bother saying the words. She just rolled her eyes and pushed Dawn over, then proceeded to prove them true.


End file.
